Mila is sitting in a room, that is rapidly losing all color. She could go back, where it's nice and peaceful and everything is happy. It's so easy from here. And all she has to do is go through that door, and take a left. Nobody else can follow her, nobody can go that shortcut, and she won't have it hurt anymore. The other lady that did not exist didn't follow her here, but she can hear the whispers, she's not sure if it's self doubt or Her but either way they want her to give. Up. Nobody's coming to help, nobody cares.

And then there's rattling at the door, and a reminder that it's her turn. It's pathetic, says the whispers. She's just humoring you.

Mila seizes at it like a lifeline, as color returns and the sobs start dying down to hiccups. "One... one minute?"